


Manhattan's Finest

by PerpetualSpinster



Category: Watchmen (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerpetualSpinster/pseuds/PerpetualSpinster
Summary: A night out to the theater left you unexpectedly alone, but that was only the beginning of the evening of entertainment that lies ahead of you.  A blue all knowing stranger challenges you and what you assume to know about the world and yourself.
Relationships: Dr. Manhattan (Watchmen)/Reader, Yahya Abdul-Mateen II/Reader
Kudos: 4





	Manhattan's Finest

The crowd erupts after the final song from the play ‘It’s a Bird! It’s a Plane! It’s Dr. Manhattan!’ Whistles and cheers fill the auditorium as the performers take a bow, receiving gifts from loved ones in the audience. 

You cheer along with them all, having enjoyed the play more than you expected to. A friend of yours was supposed to come along but flaked out at the last minute. It’s fine, at $95 a ticket, you would’ve loved to have used their ticket on dinner instead but life is shit. 

You wait for the auditorium to clear out before you get going yourself. It is much better not walking over people and pushing into each other as much as possible. When you make it outside, the muggy air makes you instantly miss the air conditioning inside the theater. Another $95 for a cool breeze would be worth it.

“(y/n)”

You look to your left seeing a man in a suit with a blue mask. His skin is also tinted blue, somewhere between winterfresh gum and blue raspberry jolly ranchers.

“Hi? Oh, are you one of the performers?!” you ask excitedly, running up to him, but being taken aback by how tall he is. “You were awesome up there. There were a couple Manhattans but were you the one that sang ‘Blue is the Blood that Runs Cold’? Because man, I have never heard a vibrato like that. It was very impressive.”

“I am not a performer in this production,” he says flatly.

You cock your head to the side, observing his manner. “But…then why all the blue? And did I introduce myself, because I don’t remember telling you.”

“You do, later on in the evening.”

You blink a couple times. “I’m going home to bed after your play. How could I be talking to you?”

“As I said, I am not a performer or member of staff on this production. And I am sorry that you cannot afford the dinner with your unrequited love tonight who is making love to his superior right now, but in time it will-”

“Whoa, what the hell did you just say? His boss? And what do you mean? I don’t love him!”

Unshifting, he continues, “I believe love can exist even in one sided instances. I am finding myself in that position right now by the end of the week.”

You take a step towards him and then to the side, watching him follow your movement. “Ok, I just had to make sure you have eyes under there. You’re stiff as hell.”

He gives a small chuckle that makes you laugh nervously. “Heh, what’s funny?”

“That is what you say to me when we take the train back to your place. You enjoy public displays of affection, both innocent and explicit.”

You groan with disgust. “I haven’t done shit like that a day in my life. How dare you!”

“You do not, because of fear and weak men. You’ve gone all your life thus far picking unattainable partners because you do not see yourself worthy of the ones that truly excite you.”

You cross your arms, growing all the more impatient. “Who are you?”

“I am Dr. Manhattan.”

“PFFFFF! HAHAHA!” You laugh out loud, causing passersby to stare. “You are too much!”

He scoffs, making you question him again. “If I tell you, you will become physical.”

“Try me, nothing is wilder than saying you are Dr. Manhattan.”

“That phrase you said ‘you are too much’, is something you say during the heat of passion as I penetrate you in the foyer of your home.”

Hearing this makes your blood boil, feeling disrespected is something you refuse to tolerate. You push your hands against his chest hard; he barely flinches, instead lowering his head.

“You’re a perverted bastard is what you are! Take that fucking mask off coward, so I know whose ass I’m finna beat.”

“I cannot remove my mask. It would draw too much attention.”

“HA! But telling a random woman that she’s gonna be stroking your dick by midnight isn’t attention seeking?”

“11:38 pm.”

“What?” you ask exasperatedly. 

“11:38 pm, not midnight. It is 10:15 now, with a 20 minute walk to the station and another 20 minute wait after just missing your train added to your travel time, it will be 11:38 pm.”

“I AM DONE HERE! Have a shitty night!” You walk away, looking back just once. “And no one really likes Dr. Manhattan except for his huge dick which I am sure you are lacking!”  
Your heels clack down the sidewalk furiously with the snap of your heel. Steam practically rises off of your body as you think back to the imbecile who couldn’t keep it in his pants. You come up to an intersection and check your phone, which sparks the thought of how he knew about your name and your date bailing and if there was any truth to why he stood you up.

“Is it better for you that I prove myself to be Dr. Manhattan?”

You jump a little too close to the curb, steadying yourself on a nearby pole. “You aren’t him, just shut up about it.”

“But you are curious, aren’t you?”

You look blankly at the road, running over what he said to you before again. “What’s his name?”

“Whose?”

You roll your eyes. “If you are Dr. Manhattan, you would know who I am talking about.”

“I do, I just…need to hear you ask it,” he says.

The cross signal goes on and you begin to strut across. “Oh, is there going to be a rip in the space time continuum if I don’t do things exactly as you predict?”

“They are not predictions but current events. This is already the past.”

You look back at him walking next to you and it unnerves you how he is able to keep up with your hurried stride like a swan on water. He doesn’t sound anxious or out of breath and his body has no bounce even when he steps.

You stop in a quiet part of the street, taking out your phone to turn on the flashlight, beaming it in his face. “What is my date’s name?”

“Crawford. You like that name very much, like Redford or Ashford.”

You pause for a second in silence. “What does he do for a living?”

“Marketing, not unlike yourself. He is up for a promotion but his relationship with his superior is making him feel insecure about his worthiness of moving up in his company however he is in love with her.”

Your heart caves in a little at the word love. You didn’t think an office fling would come to that, so soon. 

“He shared many things with you, vulnerably. They were truthful, so you should not regret those moments. However, opening yourself up to him has only led to your heartbreak sooner.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask softly, feeling tears swell up in your eyes.

He takes a beat before continuing. “You took his vulnerability as a sign of trust and therefore evidence that he loves you but because of his strife, you thought it would take time. However, he was only using you for his own gain. You gave him advice that you thought would make him see you as the object of his affection but it instead pushed him further into her arms.”

You scoff, making a tear jump down your cheek. You turn the phone light off, trying your best to hide your emotion. “I still don’t believe you.”

You pull up your friend’s phone number and dial him. The trill of the call ringing in your ear is painful, so you hang up and text him.

“That will be regrettable tomorrow.”

“Yeah I know. Dr. Manhattan doesn’t have to tell me that for it to be true.” You walk down the street at a slower pace, allowing him to walk next to you without resistance. 

“Ok. Manhattan, huh? I’m (y/n).”

“I know,” he says lightly.

“Of course you do. So even though you aren’t from the play, you do know what the play is about right? They didn’t say anything original that everybody doesn’t already think.”

“I find people’s fixation on my purpose to be distracting. When the world has developed exponentially over the decades and yet resists change in its most basic forms should be infuriating enough to not dwell on me.”

You tweak your mouth, impressed by his analysis. “I can’t fault you for that. But a blue guy from space with powers is an interesting subject. And you’re usually taller right?”

“I don’t need the attention from that,” he says.

“But blue skin isn’t distracting?” you quip.

“I don’t choose forms on a whim. There has to be purpose.”

“So what purpose do you have here with me? Or am I a stepping stone to somewhere else, because that is a popular feature of mine,” you say deflated.

“You are a beacon of positive energy, which is attractive to most. But not everyone deserves it.”

“So you are going to mentor me?”

“I am going to love you, and you will love me. In time.”

You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “How can you when you don’t know me!”

“But I do,” he says, stopping at the entrance of the train station, to open the door for you.

“Fine. Dog’s name.”

“Shrek.”

“Favorite movie?”

“The Color Purple.”

“Third grade teacher’s name?”

“Mr. Rideau, and I believe you had a crush on him.”

“NO! I did not!” You walk past him in a huff, completely embarrassed that he outed your interest in your teacher in public like that. You trot down the stairs, expecting your train to arrive in a minute but instead you see that very train pulling off as your hop off the last step. 

“Dammit!” You collect your composure and plop down on a bench to await the next arrival. Dr. Manhattan slinks next to you. 

You check him out in your peripheral, looking behind your shoulder. “You should really not be blue waiting on the train. No one here knows about the show so you stick out like a sore thumb.”

Dr. Manhattan looks slowly at his hands, before turning to you. “I could change, if you like.”

You sigh. “If I had a dollar for every man who told me that.” Looking straight into the black holes of his mask is unnerving to you, feeling a chill run down your spine makes you shiver.

“It’s probably for the best, because this is freaking me out.”

“What would you like for me to look like?”

You shrug. “I can just build you piece by piece?”

He nods. “Essentially.”

You look Manhattan up and down in a complete loss. “I don’t have time for details. When I think of a man I just want them tall, big pockets and a bigger dick.” This sparks a thought in your mind, making you slide slightly closer to him. “Ok, I know you not about that musical or rumors, but is it true about…” You point toward his lap inconspicuously.

“That I am well endowed? Ah well, those measures are up to the individual. You may see for yourself if you like.” 

Your body rears back in surprise. “That’s probably what you were looking for this whole time! You’re ridiculous.”

Dr. Manhattan sits unphased. “I won’t force you to, but I know you will. I mentioned it before. I know this is a fantasy of yours, despite my person being involved.”

“So I can just rub on your dick and it means nothing for you? That’s almost disappointing…but this night has already been wild, so feeling up a stranger ain’t far off.” You look around the practically empty station, taking your hand slowly up his thigh until you felt something solid and girthy.

“You’re stiff as hell!” you exclaim, quickly taking your hand back.

“It is a normal state in which I remain in this form.”

“And it’s blue just like you huh?”

“Correct.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think I have it in me to look, so I’ll take your word for it.”

An announcement comes on saying your train is arriving soon. You check your phone; it’s 10:54pm. 

“Listen. There’s no way I can sit with you blue on this damn train. So what do you do, hocus pocus into a Black man?”

“It helps to have a reference in mind,” he says.

“You think for a beat before taking out your phone and looking through Instagram. “If I show you a picture, will that do?”

“Of course. I can emulate imagery.”

You look through your feed as quick as you can pulling up the profile, and your favorite picture.

“Him. Can you change into him?”

His face leans into your phone for a moment. In the time it takes for you to blink, a blue light flashes and before you is the man from your feed. The rush of air from the train kicks particles in your eyes, and you rub them for relief and proof that this isn’t a dream. But in front of you is the likeness. 

“This is dangerous,” you say, trying to pick your jaw off the ground. He looks around and at his hands, adjusts his suit, then looks at you.

“Is this better?” 

You hold your mouth gasping. “You even sound like him! A little stiffer, but very much like him,”

His complexion in person is just as clear as his photos with deep brown hue that has nary a blemish. Strong jaw cloaked in a close trimmed beard that frames the exterior of his wide, chunky lips. He blinks at you with a gaze of innocence and naivete.

You remember to breathe and answer, “Yes. It’s much much better.” The ding of the train alerting its departure snaps you back to reality, grabbing his hand to make it through the closing doors just in time. 

You find two empty seats in the back, sitting next to the window. You sit next to him nervously, playing with your hands as the train rumbles down the tracks. You look out over the city passing you both and catch his reflection in the window staring at you. His eyes look happy.

“What?” you ask quietly, looking back at him.


End file.
